Steel And Sorrow (Book 2)
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Steel and Sorrow - Book Two of the Blood and Tears Trilogy
By
Joshua P. Simon
Copyright © 2012 by Joshua P. Simon
These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Joshua P. Simon.
ISBN: 978-0-9846988-4-4
Visit the author at http://joshuapsimon.blogspot.com/.
Contact joshuapsimon.author@gmail.com with any comments.
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Cover art by Brooke White with Sprout Studios (Houston, TX) www.sproutstudio.us/
Editing by Joshua Essoe www.joshuaessoe.com
Works in the Blood and Tears World
Warleader - A Blood and Tears Prequel Short Story
Rise and Fall - Book One in the Blood and Tears Trilogy
Walk Through Fire - A Blood and Tears Prequel Novella
Steel and Sorrow - Book Two of the Blood and Tears Trilogy
Hero of Slaves - A Blood and Tears Novella
Trial and Glory: Book Three of the Blood and Tears Trilogy *Forthcoming*
Table of Contents
Maps
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
About the Author
Excerpt of Walk Through Fire - A Blood and Tears Prequel Novella
Excerpt of Hero of Slaves - A Blood and Tears Novella
Dedication
For Leah
Maps
Prologue
Charu paced the quarters given to him that morning. The plush surroundings befitted his station as an emissary for the Red Mountain Clan, yet the ornate woodwork of the Green Forest Clan failed to impress him. Each clomp his boots made on the oak floors only increased his anger, causing him to focus more on the time of night than the impending meeting.
The warchief rubbed at his smooth face with an open hand. He cursed, wishing he walked the granite floors of his home in Guaronope. “Do they not know how to work stone at all?”
Melat spoke in her calm tone. “Feruse’s walls are made from stone, as are many of their buildings’ foundations.”
Charu threw up his hands at her. “Yes, and what walls! Barely eight feet. How do they expect to defend something a man could scale without even the use of a ladder?”
Melat shrugged. “I didn’t say they were good at working stone. Just that they could do it.” One side of her mouth turned up into a lop-sided grin. Instantly, Charu forgot his anger, enthralled by the woman’s ever-seductive allure. He drank in her curves and smooth, brown skin. Her smile grew wider. “I know that look. You need to stay focused for when Jolnan arrives.”
Charu frowned, remembering the true focal point of his anger. He started pacing again. “He’s kept me waiting for over an hour. If we were in Guaronope, it would be different.”
“But we aren’t,” said Melat. “Though it wounds your pride, you need to remember that. We need Jolnan to win over the council.” She walked over and placed a hand on his arm.
Charu sighed. After becoming warchief of the Red Mountain Clan, he had planned to invade the Green Forest Clan with his army, and then move on to the other clans until all of Hesh bowed to him. But the Blue Island Clan had acted first.
“You’re right,” he admitted.
A knock sounded at the door.
“Be strong, but be respectful,” said Melat.
“Let him in.”
Melat opened the door and Jolnan strode through with chin high. Lamplight danced off his bare scalp. Dark green trousers and a white shirt hung loosely from his thin frame. He wore an odd smile that reminded Charu of someone recalling an old joke.
Jolnan gave a slight bow that Charu begrudgingly returned. “I apologize for my tardiness, Warchief. Duty called.”
Charu gestured to a couple of chairs and the two sat across from each other. “Yes, especially in such troubling times.”
Melat came over with cups of wine for each. Jolnan’s gaze lingered on the woman’s figure before accepting the cup.
After a long swallow, Jolnan set his drink down. “So, what did you wish to see me about? It’s unusual for a council member to meet in private with an emissary the day before he is to speak before them.”
Charu remembered Melat’s warning. He set his own cup down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees with hands clasped. “How about we forget the formalities and get right down to it? I know the power you possess among the council and I need your help.”
Jolnan raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”
“Despite our differences, the Red Mountain Clan has always held a great deal of respect for the Green Forest Clan,” lied Charu. “I hope the feeling is mutual.”
Though Jolnan gave a slight nod, Charu noticed the lie it also held.
“Our clans must unite against a common enemy. The Blue Island Clan. They conquer the Orange Desert Clan. They form an alliance with the Gray Marsh Clan. Their warleader mysteriously disappears and his successor, his own brother, kills his father and gains command over the people.” He paused. “If not for the change in weather and the mobility of the nomadic Yellow Plain Clan that delayed Tobin’s victory over them, I have no doubt his armies would already be on your land.”
“We’ve considered these things and have begun retooling our forces. There are also plans to raise our walls.”
“That’s not enough. You can’t afford to sit behind the insignificant walls of the capital and wait for Tobin to come for you.”
“You’re talking about becoming the aggressor?”
“Together, we would hold a significant advantage in numbers.”
“They hold other advantages. Armor and weapons.”
“Yes,” admitted Charu. “But it isn’t like our blades will be useless against them. Besides, let’s not forget the advantage the Green Forest Clan has in terrain or our advantage with shamans.”
Charu could see Jolnan weighing his words. He did not seem convinced.
“What about Nachun?” asked Jolnan. “Reports say he is more powerful than anyone since the Elder Age.”
Charu clenched his fists at the shaman’s name. “Nachun’s abilities are an exaggeration, I assure you. You remember when his father sought aid from you some time ago?”
“Yes, we respected your wishes not to admit his family into our clan.”
“And for that I’m grateful. His family wronged
me and the Red Mountain Clan.”
“The rumors are that you defiled his sister.”
Charu grimaced. “Lies.” He refused to elaborate, the truth was not for Jolnan to know. “But, I knew Nachun’s family well. The shaman was weak. If he had shown any real ability, wouldn’t his father have used that as enticement for you to accept them? No shaman is as strong as the stories say.”
“Then how do you explain those stories?” asked the councilor.
Charu shrugged. “He must be a figurehead for Tobin. His shamans are probably focusing their power through him. From a psychological standpoint, it is far more intimidating for it to appear as though one man can wield power on that scale rather than a collective. As an outsider, Nachun’s story adds to his mystique among the Blue Island Clan.” He paused. “If we face Nachun, we will destroy him.”
“So, you want our armies to join forces. You could have made this argument before the council yourself. There has to be something else you’re interested in.”
Charu quickly glanced at Melat who gave a slight nod. “I’ll be blunt. My army is better trained and better prepared. I want complete command over our combined forces. Someone must have final say otherwise our chances of success will be drastically reduced.”
Jolnan snorted. “That will be a hard sell to the council.” He looked down and played with the hem of his sleeve. “I’ve recently learned of your own plans of conquest.”
Jolnan reached forward and grabbed his cup of wine. He had not asked a question. He made his accusation and waited to see how Charu would respond. The warchief grew angry at the man’s arrogance and angrier still that he had learned such information.
Melat passed between them, jarring Charu from his thoughts. She sat on Jolnan’s lap and threw her arm over his neck. Jolnan froze, eyes widening. “Councilor, would you really consider spreading such an awful thing to others? Something like that could harm both our causes.”
Jolnan cleared his throat as if intending to speak. Yet he failed to find the words as Melat grabbed his hand and placed it on her leg. Jolnan began to sweat.
Melat continued. “I know something about you too. I know that you’ve wanted to do away with the council and rule Feruse outright for some time. So much so, that an assassination attempt you orchestrated against one of your rivals failed less than a month ago. If word of that got out, I’m sure it would be just as damaging to you as your news would be to us.”
Jolnan took his hand away and stirred uncomfortably in his seat. “It would still be your word against mine,” he muttered.
Charu heard the lack of confidence in his voice. Melat stood and gave a wink as she walked to a side door. Though Charu hated to see her flaunt herself to others, he could not deny its effectiveness.
“Convince the council to put me in command,” said Charu. “After we’ve defeated the Blue Island Clan, I want your help solidifying my rule. I admit that I did plan to conquer the Green Forest Clan, but I’d much rather do so peaceably. Do this for me and I’ll see that the council is eliminated and you are put in charge of managing Feruse in their stead. It may not be exactly what you wanted, but you’d have a great deal more power and wealth than what you have now.”
Melat opened a side door and two women, barely into their womanhood, entered the room. They wore very little.
“What is this?” asked Jolnan. He tried to appear upset, but could not hide his interest.
“Two virgins,” said Melat. “They are a gift for you. I thought it a more enjoyable way to seal the deal than a handshake.”
Jolnan’s eyes finally left the teenagers and drifted to Melat and then Charu. He chuckled. “We have a deal.” He shook his head. “You have a remarkable woman.”
“Yes, I do,” said Charu.
The two young women left with the councilor. Melat locked the door behind them. She turned with a smile. “You did it.”
Charu scowled. “I didn’t do anything. You convinced him. How did you know about the assassination attempt?”
“It was a hunch based on other information whispered about the city, especially in the local bathhouses where I bought the two girls.” She giggled. “They aren’t really virgins, but I doubt the old coot can tell the difference.”
“And what if you were wrong about your hunch?”
“I would have thought of something.” She frowned. “You aren’t upset with me, are you?”
Charu didn’t answer. Melat came over and wrapped her arms around him. Her familiar lavender smell drowned out the faint traces of pine from the furniture. “Look, you’re a brilliant man and a great military leader, but you aren’t a politician. That’s why I’m trying to help you. I’m not overstepping myself, am I?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry. I promise I won’t be so direct in the future.” She pulled a letter out of her dress and handed it to him. “Perhaps this will change your mood.”
Charu furrowed his brow as he opened the letter and began reading. He stopped and looked up. “These are details about Tobin’s army, including possible locations of attack.”
She smiled. “Yes. I made a friend.”
“Who?”
She gestured to the letter. “See for yourself. He contacted me. What do you think?”
Charu continued to read. “It seems legitimate. And he has good reasons for helping us.”
“So we can trust him?”
“For now.”
“Good. Because I already sent a reply. I expect the next letter to contain more details regarding Tobin’s plan for invasion.”
Charu stared at Melat, thinking of where he had been two years ago. His wife, Nachun’s sister, had cheated on him and embarrassed him before the council. He had lost standing with the Red Mountain Clan council as a result.
He met Melat a short while later after literally running into her on the streets of Guaronope. They had been inseparable since. Within a month, Melat managed to recover not only what standing Charu had lost, but also helped him rise higher than ever before.
And the entire time she asked for nothing. “It is enough to know I have you. What more do I need?”
“Stop looking at me like that. It’s embarrassing.” Melat cast her gaze downward. “What are you thinking about anyway?”
Charu snatched her off her feet. “Just how remarkable a woman I have.”
* * *
Duke Conroy sat in his study, thumbing through a book that chronicled the exploits of a general from the Quoron Empire named Victas. Centuries ago, Victas had conquered most of the known world.
Conroy felt a close connection to him.
During Victas’ early years, Quoron’s emperor had been the victim of an assassination. Victas seized control of the empire rather than supporting the heir to the throne. Scholars claimed that the young general did so out of necessity rather than selfish ambition.
He saw that the emperor’s son didn’t have the skills to keep the empire intact and therefore took the burden upon himself. His love for his country was too great to allow it to fall apart.
Historians agree that without Victas’ intervention and subsequent rule, Quoron would not have lasted.
What will historians write about me?
A knock at the door preceded the creaking hinges. A servant stuck his head in the room and bowed. “I apologize for interrupting, my lord. Duke Bronn has arrived. He’s insisting to speak with you right away.”
Conroy’s eyes peaked over the top of the book. “Send him in.”
The servant bowed again before quietly closing the door.
Conroy rose from his seat and strode to one of the large bookshelves lining the walls of his study. His most prized possessions, his library’s completeness and wealth of knowledge was second only to the collection on Estul Island.
Books had always been a passion of his. He had read his family’s collection several times over before reaching adulthood, and collected countless volumes since.
Hurried footsteps echoed from th
e hallway behind the study’s door. The door flung open and slammed into the stone wall. Unsurprised, Conroy did not turn around.
“What are you doing in here?” said Bronn. “I thought you would be marshaling your forces. It’s time we showed Jeldor and that black devil who should rule Cadonia.”
Conroy paid little mind to the urgency of the man’s tone as he carefully found the spot for the ancient text and replaced it. He slowly turned and gestured to the study door that hung half open. “In the future, you will treat my home with more respect.”
Bronn gave Conroy a confused look. “Are you that upset about a door?”
“I’m upset that you would barge into my private study like a child and then presume to order me around like one of your servants.” The edge in his voice cut through the air.
Bronn frowned and began to apologize. “You’re right, I was only—”
“Close the door and sit down.” Conroy told him, finding his chair once again. He could see Bronn’s frustration, but the young duke wisely bit his lip and did as instructed. “Now, why are you here?”
Bronn took a deep breath, gripping tight the arms of his chair. He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, we must mount an offensive. They embarrassed our armies in the north.”
“No,” said Conroy. “They embarrassed your army. Mine remains behind my borders, waiting for the right moment, just as we previously discussed.”
“Jeldor was susceptible for an attack after having come to Cathyrium’s aid. My commander took the initiative to act. Orenthal didn’t expect Kaz to redistribute his forces so quickly when he had Tomalt on the run.”
“Your commander is an imbecile.”
Bronn managed to control his emotions. “My father trusted him and he is well-liked among the men.”
“Well-liked means nothing. I care little if my men like me, only that they respect and trust me to lead them. They fight for me because I don’t make stupid mistakes. You should remove Orenthal from command.”
“It’s not his fault entirely. There were circumstances—”